


The Innocence of Fleeting Youth

by infensi_floralibus



Category: The White Queen (TV)
Genre: Complete escapism, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 16:09:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infensi_floralibus/pseuds/infensi_floralibus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Childhood is the Kingdom where nobody dies", a one-shot of the couples early life at Middleham Castle</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Innocence of Fleeting Youth

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to do something that was a bit more upbeat... apparently I failed.  
> This is following the death of Richard, Duke of York, and his son Edmund at the Battle of Wakefield in 1460. Anne would be around six, Richard around eight.

The rushes slipped and slid beneath Anne’s little feet as she raced down the familiar ancient corridors of Middleham Castle. She had long perfected the art of avoiding those who would be looking for her, ready to drag her to yet another French lesson - or if she was very unlucky a lecture on etiquette.  


She had decided that the best place to hide would be the chapel; she usually had to be dragged to her prayers so it would take a reasonable amount of time for them to think to look for her there. As she scampered down the corridors, fingers dragging across the smooth stone wall, Anne could barely suppress her joyful laughter at her success. She and Izzy were supposed to be with Nurse practicing their needlework but she had taken her chance at escape when one of the lads, her father’s wards, had accidentally allowed a muddy wolf hound into the ladies chambers. The beast had smeared mud across the girl’s skirts and sent them into a flurry of shrieking, providing cover for Anne to slip through the open door.  


The chapel was cold and silent, dimly lit by the pale winter sun. Dust whirled and span in the air as Anne passed, sneaking between the pews before crawling beneath one of the benches. It was cool but not damp and Anne thought she wouldn’t mind hiding her more often. From her pocket she pulled her small rag doll; it was a battered, yellowed thing that had once been Izzy’s. She could have had a new one if she’d asked, but she liked the sweet painted face even though it was faded. Anne thought this was what an angels face would look like; serene and emotionless - yet still soft, with its almond shaped eyes and gently curling lips. She had tried to replicate this look in the reflection of their polished metal mirror, but Izzy had seen her and said it looked as though she was trying not to sneeze. _We won’t pay any attention to her_ , Anne murmured to the doll, gently teasing its rope hair back into place.  


Her play was suddenly disturbed however by the echo of what sounded like a rather pathetic sniff. Anne froze, _had they found her so soon?_ She lay perfectly still, knowing that discovery would almost certainly result in a spanking. There was nothing for a few long moments...but there it was again!  


It didn’t sound like the kind of noise Nurse would make and she couldn’t imagine Izzy would come here to cry...  


Curiosity got the better of her and Anne slowly turned onto her hands and knees, crawling forwards until she could see down the aisle. She couldn’t immediately see anybody but that didn’t mean they had left. _They must be in Our Lady Mary’s chapel_ , she thought; their tiny chapel had an alcove dedicated to the Virgin Mother. She cautiously climbed to her feet, ready to flee at the first sign of danger, and crept towards the alcove which she could now see was illuminated by candlelight. The occupant of the niche was only revealed to her as she passed one of the slim pillars that held up the vaulted ceiling.  


_Richard!_  


Of all of her father’s wards, Richard was the last she had imagined she would find secretly crying in the chapel. All fears of being discovered left as concern for the young duke rose within her.  


“Richard?” She asked warily, slipping past the final pews. The dark haired boy jumped back from the altar railing, clearly having been in the belief that he was alone. Anne could now see that he was paler than usual, although his sallowness was accentuated by the redness around his eyes. “Are you crying?” she asked, not sure how to begin.  
“Of course not!” he retorted, although his denial was flawed by the thickness of his voice. They awkwardly stood apart, neither sure how to act – this hadn’t been covered in etiquette lessons. Richard was ridged, his fists clenched at his side, as he resisted the urge to wipe at his swollen face. Anne looked around as though hoping the Virgin herself would send her a spark of inspiration, and her eyes landed on two lit candles.  


“Did you light those for your father and brother?” She asked softly, understanding now why Richard was hiding here, away from the other boisterous boys. His eyes followed hers and he swallowed before nodding. “It’s alright to be sad; I think I would be very upset if my Lord Father or Izzy died-”  


“I don’t wish to speak of it.”  


“Oh...alright” The uncomfortable silence settled again as they stared at each other and Anne tried to think what her little angel would do. When she was sad or scared Nurse had always put her on her knee, wrapped her arms around her and kissed away her tears. Anne may not have had an etiquette lesson on this but she knew that that was not how she should try and comfort Richard. She gathered her words slowly before stepping up to the rail beside the dark haired youth, keeping her eyes on the sombre face of the statue of the Virgin Mother. “Everything will be well again...one day. Father and your brother Ned will drive the Bad Queen back to France, or hell - wherever she truly comes from. They will put away the Sleeping King and revenge your family.” She spoke with conviction for she knew these words to be true; her father had told her so. “Then everything will be alright. It’s not like you’ll never see them again, they wait for you in heaven.”  


They both stood facing the icon now, barely six inches apart, but Anne felt that he was still very far away. “Sometimes I have nightmares; I’m scared of the Bad Queen too-”  
“I’m not afraid!” Richard hissed, whipping around to face her. His nostrils flared and his brow was puckered whilst his eyes seemed to dare her to disagree, even as the last few stray tears escaped their corners.  


“But,” Anne continued quietly, “It would be alright if you were.” Slowly she moved her hand along the cold rail until she found his surprisingly cool fingers, and gently, slowly, laid hers over them.  


They stood like that for a long moment, both frozen with surprise at her actions. Although they lived together, the Neville girls and the wards rarely spent unchaperoned time together, let alone touched. Anne was afraid for a minute that he might sharply pull away and reject the little comfort she offered him, but to her surprise she felt his fingers move beneath her palm, his thumb rubbing against hers.  


“Thank you An-” he slowly began to whisper,  


“Lady Anne! How _dare_ you run off like that?!” They both jumped as Nurse’s voice boomed through the chapel. Anne span around to see her nursemaid standing, hands on hips, between the pews. “You will come back to your room this instant and receive such a boxing round the ears you will never forget it!” She marched forward to grab Anne by the upper arm and steered her back down the aisle. “You’ll be lucky if your father doesn’t hear about this.” At these words Anne gulped, her father was someone she hated to disappoint and that was punishment far worse than anything Nurse could inflict on the backs of her knees with her willow switch. “And don’t think you won’t be in trouble either,” Nurse continued to rage, now directing her fury at Richard. “You should be training with the other young lords. Get you to them now or I will hear about it!”  


They parted ways in the corridor, Richard down the spiral stairs to find the other boys and Anne to her chambers for the inevitable spanking. But, she thought, as she was dragged away by a grim Nurse, it was worth it for the small smile Richard shot her before he disappeared.  


Yes, it was most definitely worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Do let me know what you think, even if it's just to hit the kudos. It's nice to have some kind of gauge as to people's general reactions to your writing.
> 
> P.s. I kind of imagined Asa Butterfield as a young Richard
> 
> P.s.s The poem from the summary is by Edna St. Vincent Millay


End file.
